


contemplation

by minokawa



Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: Drabble, Headcanon sort of, Uhhhhhh word vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-22 21:13:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10705227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minokawa/pseuds/minokawa
Summary: Gods do not answer to each other's prayers.





	contemplation

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on tumblr (komorebixyugen)

_It is said that the Red Dragon God descended from the heavens, long ago, because of his love for man. But the people of the land had forgotten the Ryujin, and darkness leaked from the hearts of men and obscured the dawn. The God who accepted human form, human nature, and human sin; he continued to love them regardless; continued to love them despite of the hate they gave him in response…_

Nimble fingers fiddled with a golden medallion, absentmindedly scratching at the engraved Dragon insignia. The owner of these hands– _(cursed, monstrous, freakishly unmarred and smooth hands)_ — furrowed his brows together, lips continuing to quietly recite the legend. _(It was that one old lady, wasn’t it? From the fishing village with the singular great oak which was struck by lightning? Or did this version come from someone else?)_ Legends passed down through the generations; they maintained the essence of history yet the stories’ other elements always differed. The young man’s face scrunched up even more, sapphire gaze dull and distant as words faltered and slowed to a pathetic stumble.

_…Soon his four brothers came to his aid, saving him from the wickedness of men. But before them was no longer a God. A mere man himself–_

**“But what are gods, really?”**

With sigh of indiscernible emotion, the young man leaned against the trunk of the tree he was perched in; his eyes remained to see everything yet nothing. His hands, they also stilled, and he sat there. There was no need to continue with the story. Another matter had caught his awareness, and it made a slight frown grace his features. Hiryuu was just as human as anyone else when he became king. He was living, and as all living things do: he died. The Gods Exist; they may not necessarily be living? But, what of Ouryuu?

**"But what of me?"**

_An undying body._ Existing. Like the Gods. But not of the living. _The voices of the Ryujin could no longer be heard._ Ouryuu no longer spoke to him. Yet the wind, birds, trees, and earth never stopped whispering into his ears; ghosts still wept and called out to him; dreams still gave shape to warnings. And so, what happened to the Ryujin? Hakuryuu, now without an arm. Seiryuu, now without eyes. Ryokuryuu, now without a leg— _but if Ouryuu gave more than just his body, what does that make Zeno?_ Immortality. Is such the essence of God?

**There is only one Ouryuu. There has only been one. There will always be only one.**


End file.
